


assumptions

by azuriteaura, neonsheep (combat_jorts)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21174605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azuriteaura/pseuds/azuriteaura, https://archiveofourown.org/users/combat_jorts/pseuds/neonsheep
Summary: "What was that all about? I thought you didn't care about how I spent my time or who I spent it with. I'm lucky since Darien is open minded, but what the hell Felix? You know that's usually not the case, that could have gone really badly."“You’re right— I don’t care. But...” How the hell was he supposed to word this without outing himself? How was he supposed to do it without giving Sylvain the wrong idea? “I don’t know. But it’s none of my business. Whatever. Have fun with your newest toy.”aka. the one where unresolved feelings fester into something ugly.





	assumptions

Felix had been feeling restless all day— all week, actually. Yes, there was a war currently in progress, and yes, they had a major battle coming up that would almost definitely decide the course of the war, but was that what he was worried about? No. Of course not. Battles never made him anxious anymore, but for some reason, Sylvain of all fucking things did. He thought his friend might have changed, even matured in the five years since his philandering days at Garreg Mach, but no. The man was bedding a different girl nearly every night, and had seemingly been doing so for the past two weeks. Felix could hear her fucking squealing two doors down the other night, and he wanted to either bust down Sylvain’s door or toss himself off the bridge to get some peace and quiet.

He thought it had ended when he didn’t see a girl leaving Sylvain’s chambers that morning, but he narrowed his eyes at the sight before him in the courtyard. Sylvain was talking with a guy Felix barely recognized, but something about his friend’s body language made him do a double take. He couldn’t just be talking to this guy. He was interested. But that didn’t make any sense... Felix narrowed his eyes and situated himself in a place he thought would be relatively hidden, watching the interaction play out.

Sylvain hadn't noticed Felix's presence at all, too focused on the man in front of him as he laughed at a joke. It was early enough that not many people were out and about yet, not that it really mattered much to the flirtatious man. He had never really felt the need to hide the fact that while he may not be attracted to fucking scarecrows - thanks Ingrid-, he was actually attracted to all genders. It just so happened to be that women were a lot more open and... shameless than others. Not that he had an issue with that at all.

If Sylvain thought he was smooth, then the man in front of him was on a whole different level. Sylvain had actually been having trouble sleeping lately. Lots of nightmares. And what did he do best when faced with difficult emotional trauma and the baggage that came with it? He put on a smile, found someone pretty, and pretended like everything was okay. But of course, Sylvain is still only human and could only do so many nights in a row.

That was what he had told himself at least, last night as he headed out to town just for a simple drink. Yet somehow one thing led to another and before Sylvain could really wrap his head around it, this guy had approached him, bought him a couple of drinks and honestly gave him one of the best nights he'd had in a _long_ time.

"I should probably get going... My sister was understanding with letting me take you home but I really should get back to help her open up shop." The man said with a heavy sigh.

Sylvain nodded with a quiet chuckle, "You'll have to tell her again that I'm sorry for scaring her in the middle of the night. You told me we weren't at your place alone but it completely slipped my mind."

The man smirked up at Sylvain, "It's fine, after the second time I was a bit brainless myself." The two of them laughed at that, catching the curious glance of a few early risers passing by, but neither of them paid any mind.

"One more for the road?"

Sylvain grinned as he leaned down and captured the man's lips with his own, ignoring the gasp followed by giggles from some passing women. Maybe they weren't as alone as they thought but honestly who cared.

Felix’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening as he forced himself to dart right back around the corner he was hiding behind. This wasn’t happening. _Sylvain wasn’t straight?_ He hadn’t been straight this whole time? Felix had never once seen him with a guy— never— and suddenly he was making out with one he’d apparently had sex with multiple times? This wasn’t happening. 

Felix wanted to pretend he had no idea why he was so bothered, but he knew exactly why. He’d known since they were children. It hurt him every time Sylvain brought home another faceless, nameless girl, but it didn’t hurt as badly knowing that Sylvain was only attracted to women (or those with more feminine dispositions) because then the situation was completely out of his hands. He’d go on his merry way with a crush that couldn’t be requited because of matters he couldn’t change, and that was fine with him. It hurt, but it was fine.

But now that all of that was thrown out the window— now that Felix knew Sylvain still pursued the masculine type— a terrible thought settled heavy in Felix’s gut that whispered _what's wrong with me? _

Something spiteful sparked in his heart then, and he ripped himself away from the wall and stalked toward the happy couple. Something told him he was going to regret this later, but he didn’t really care. 

“Hey Sylvain,” he called conversationally, knocking the blade of his wooden training sword into his own shoulder as he carried it. “What happened to that girl you had over the other night? What was her name— Olivia? Couldn’t forget by the way you were screaming it.”

Despite the sore spot on his shoulder, Sylvain was happy to see Felix. That was. He was happy to see Felix until he heard what his friend had to say.

Sylvain's cheerful greeting died on his tongue as he quirked a surprised eyebrow at Felix. He glanced back at the man behind him who only smiled warmly, albeit a bit confused.

"Don't worry, you already made yourself clear. I really do need to get going but I hope the best for you and your er, _friend_." The man looked Felix up and down and must have come to some sort of conclusion as he smirked before shaking his head and walking away. "Goodbye Sylvain."

Sylvain blinked dumbly as he waved the man off. "Right..." His gaze, a bit sharper now lowered to meet Felix's as he placed a hand on his hip. 

"What was that all about? I thought you didn't care about how I spent my time or who I spent it with. I'm lucky since Darien is open minded, but what the hell Felix? You know that's usually not the case, that could have gone really badly."

Felix watched the man go with a sneer, then wheeled on Sylvain, scowling. “Oh, so that was _Darien_? My mistake. I didn’t realize the feelings of those you took to bed really mattered to you. You go through them like clothes,” Felix snapped back, in no mood for anything anymore that afternoon.

“You’re right— I don’t care. But...” How the hell was he supposed to word this without outing himself? How was he supposed to do it without giving Sylvain the wrong idea? “I don’t know. It’s always been girls. And you’ve been bringing quite a few back this week. Trust me,” he deadpanned, “I’ve heard them all.”

“But it’s none of my business. Whatever. Have fun with your newest toy.”

"Hey!" Sylvain grabbed Felix's wrist as he tried to walk away. "Don't just come at me out of nowhere then walk off like nothing happened."

Sylvain didn't want to be angry. He didn't want to fight with Felix. But he was sleep deprived. But he was confused. But _what the actual fuck._ "If it bothered you so much then why didn't you just come to me before you got this pissed? I wasn't even here last night. Wait. Is this seriously because it was a guy?!"

Just the thought of Felix being upset with the idea of Sylvain sleeping with another man struck a nerve. There was no way, right? "Felix you're not seriously telling me you're the kind of person who would judge someone for that? I thought you were better than that."

_Yes, it was because it was a guy, but not for the reason Sylvain thought it was._ Felix rolled his eyes, attempting to pry his wrist from his friend’s grip. He looked angry, confused, hurt, and Felix wanted that look gone as much as he wanted to hurt Sylvain with his barbed words. 

“No, dipshit. I couldn’t care less who anyone sleeps with. I just...” Felix’s gaze darted away as he attempted to gather his words. “It’s always been girls. You never told me.” That didn’t make him sound any better— fuck it. He was still angry. What was so wrong with him that Sylvain could flirt with everything that moved _except him?_ It wasn’t fair. 

“You’ve brought someone new home every night these past two weeks. This battle is coming up, and when you aren’t prepared, I’m not dragging your ass out of trouble again. It’ll be your fault. You don’t even like the people you sleep with, anyway. Do you? Save them the trouble.”

Sylvain recoiled at the harsh words, his grip on Felix's hand loosening until he let his arm fall to his side altogether. For a moment he was openly hurt, but only a moment. 

Fists clenched, he took a deep breath as he leveled Felix with a guarded glare. "Fine then. Sorry for being such a pain. Don't worry about keeping an eye on me out on the battlefield. I can hold my own just fucking fine." 

Not bothering to spare him another glance, Sylvain moved past Felix, knocking into his side undeterred as he exited the courtyard.

Felix stumbled a bit as he was knocked into, letting out a growl as he watched Sylvain go. Smug satisfaction settled in his gut at getting to Sylvain so effectively, but at the same time, something sick settled in his gut. It didn’t yet outweigh the rush of getting the reaction he wanted from Sylvain, but it lingered. 

He rolled his shoulders and stalked off in the opposite direction, heading back to the training yard to whack the shit out of a few training dummies before Dimitri got to them and obliterated them all. 

As he wasted his afternoon and evening swinging his sword blasting magic until he shone with sweat, that sick feeling lingered, only making him angrier. He didn’t need Sylvain. Sylvain obviously didn’t need him. What Sylvain did in his free time, who he slept with was none of Felix’s business. Sylvain had it coming. Why would Felix even like someone like him anyway? Why would he want someone like him? He was better off. He told himself that anyway, but his heart still hurt.

The next three days came and went just like that. Lingering feelings left to fester and rot beneath the surface, neither of the two bridging the gap that was now between them. The few times their paths had crossed, Sylvain immediately turned the other way. If he was talking to someone when he spotted Felix he made a point to avert his gaze and purposely speak louder or up his flirting game, just to add fuel to the flames.

Even if Felix hadn't specifically cut at Sylvain's amount of company, he still wouldn't have brought anyone to his room. His heart was never in it but honestly the silence of night suited his foul mood more than the screams of some faceless villager. 

Sylvain briefly had considered visiting Darien but... no. Darien was a good man and his sister had been kind. Even if it was just another lay, he had felt a lot more relaxed that night than he had in a long time. Sure, the guy approached him for a quick fuck, but it wasn't because of who Sylvain was. It was just because, like Sylvain, Darien needed another faceless person who could make him feel good so he didn't have to face the demons that crept into his dreams at night.

Of course, now with the added frustration and hurt from his unexpected argument with Felix his nights were even more restless than before. Forget nightmares and lust to keep him up, his own damned thoughts did it for him. 

Where did Felix get the right to suddenly judge him for his admittedly unhealthy coping mechanisms? He had never cared before. How was Sylvain supposed to say the reason he rarely bedded men was because every time he did all he could think about was how much he'd rather it be Felix. The grumpy, fight obsessed, man he had grown up with and known practically his entire life and had never once seen him show an ounce of romantic affection to _anyone._

Sylvain knew Felix. Sylvain knew that Felix wasn't the type to handle emotions well. He knew there was no way he could ever drop something like a lifelong crush that admittedly was way more than a crush onto his shoulders. It could destroy everything they had built over the years and Felix was the one thing he just couldn't fucking lose.

So he put on the mask. The same mask that he used to pretend that Miklan's death didn't affect him. The same mask that led others to believe he was nothing but a rich spoiled idiot. The mask that he wore to trick himself into thinking if he used others the way they wanted to use him it would be enough to quell the bitter pain that constantly clawed at his chest.

And by the time their group was needed to go out for another mission that would bring them one step closer to winning the war, he had that perfectly crafted mask back on and ready to push him through anything.

Sylvain had been avoiding him. Felix was going to be the bigger man and simply say nothing at all when Sylvain entered the room, but the other man took it a bit further and _turned to walk in the opposite direction._ He was avoiding Felix— and for what? Telling him he needed to get a grip and quit fucking everything that moves? If so, Sylvain needed to put on his big boy pants and grow the fuck up. Felix didn’t have time for that, and neither did anyone else in their ranks.

Felix was stopped by Mercedes and Annette one morning, and they had the audacity to ask him what was wrong with Sylvain. Why ask him instead of the source? He tried to say as much, but they weren’t having it.

“He’s been avoiding you,” Annette accused. “We’ve seen it all. Just tell us what’s wrong.”

“We’d just like to help. You know distractions don’t do well on the battlefield,” Mercedes added softly, placatingly, but Felix sneered and turned on his heel, leaving them behind. He didn’t have time for this. They were wasting their own time talking to him about this rather than Sylvain.

And so that brought them to the battle preparations, their troops marching to a town experiencing a plague of both brigands and beasts. Felix couldn’t wait to sink the blade of his sword into something other than wood. 

He glanced to his side, spotting Sylvain a few yards away looking distant, but perfect. Felix instantly knew that perfection was a ruse— Sylvain always had something going on in his mind, and that expression carefully betrayed not even a hint of it. He narrowed his eyes, but they were getting into position, and he no longer had time to contemplate it.

_Stupid Sylvain, stupid girls, stupid Darien._ Damn Felix’s weak heart and weaker mind. He couldn’t get Sylvain out of his head, and he wanted to quit thinking about him, but he wouldn’t because he maybe had a little bit more than a crush on his best friend, who was now ignoring him, that would never be requited because Felix apparently wasn’t good enough.

Sylvain had been doing everything he could to pretend he was fine. Hadn't slept for the better part of a week? No problem. His makeup skills were actually on point. Heart feels like its been ripped to shreds? Eh, he's used to that one. Doesn't make it any easier, but it does make him more experienced when it came to sucking it up and doing what needed to be done.

As the professor and Dimitri, who had finally, _finally_ regained his senses after so long, went over the battleplan, Sylvain's gaze couldn't help but wander to the source of his struggles.

Felix looked the same as always. Irritated and itching for a fight. But even from the other side of the group he could tell it was more than that.

His chest ached and he wanted nothing more than to go and just _talk to him_ but he had no idea what he would even say.

When they finally began their march to the town, Felix snuck glances at Sylvain every now and again. When he thought no one was looking, he appeared a little less perfect than normal. Felix couldn’t look for long lest his chest felt tight and his each and every breath hurt. Fuck. He was torn between wanting Sylvain to hurt for what he made Felix feel and wanting to make it all better because of how Felix felt for him. _Dammit,_ he was weak. 

By the time they arrived, Felix was itching for a fight, fingers wrapped so tightly around the hilt of his sword that his knuckles grew white. He wanted to think of anything but Sylvain, so once the professor directed him, he was off. He cut through monster and man alike, casting thunder spells at bulkier brigands and sweeping the scrawnier ones off their feet with his sword. For the first time in a week, he felt a little bit closer to okay.

Sylvain was in a similar mindset as he took the lance of ruin in hand and joined the fray on the professor's word. He knew he wanted to fix things with Felix, but he didn't know how. So for now letting his mind go numb as he kept his gaze sharp and movements quick was exactly what he needed. Maybe if he could just clear his head for a bit, he'd be able to fix this mess. 

A yelp not too far off to the left of him caught his attention as he pulled his spear from the corpse of a lesser demonic beast. He cursed under his breath as he saw Annette barely duck out of the way of an enemy's sword. She turned to cast a defensive spell and the enemy moved to cut her down, but Sylvain beat them both to the punch as he chucked his lance and it landed in the middle of the man's chest, causing him to fall to the ground with a guttural noise of death, something Sylvain had learned to desensitize himself to over the years.

Annette stood and gave Sylvain a grateful smile as he pulled his weapon from the enemy's corpse. "Thanks."

Sylvain wiped the sweat from his brow and smirked reassuringly, "Not a problem." 

His eyebrows furrowed as he immediately looked around them, worry nagging at the back of his mind.

"Where's Felix? Isn't he supposed to be covering you right now?"

Felix had, in fact, gotten himself into quite the pickle. 

Completely ignoring Byleth’s commands, he made a wide arc across the battlefield, heading for a beast in the corner surrounded by bandits. There were only three of them, and they seemed pretty preoccupied by the beast, so Felix was confident he could have a bit of fun with this group.

He was wrong.

The beast had taken out one man on its down, but the other two had defeated it in turn by the time Felix reached them. He clashed with one, disarmed him with a graceful swing of the sword, kicked him off his feet, and plunged his blade in. Moving on, he meant to do the exact same to the last man when a kick was delivered to the back of his knee, sending him to the ground. It seemed he didn’t account for reinforcements. 

He attempted to block the next blow with his sword, but it left him open to one of the two brigands looming over him. He parried a sword at the same time he took a kick to the stomach, and he doubled over, sword clattering from his hand. Coughing and snarling, he reached for his sword only to find that it had been kicked away, so instead he readied a spell. 

He knew the moment he saw one brigand lift his sword that he would be too slow.

_"Felix!!!!!"_

The second Annette's eyes had widened with realization Sylvain took off sprinting. He knew Felix. _He knew._ And yet the stupid self focused part of him overlooked one of the most important things he knew about his best friend.

The idiot was reckless when he was pissed off.

Sure enough, as Sylvain tore through the battlefield, Felix came into sight, right as he was kicked to the ground and separated from his weapon.

_Shit shit shit shit._

Sylvain tossed his lance to the side, knowing if he didn't he wouldn't make it in time, the weapon only slowing him down. 

He screamed out Felix's name as he saw the brigand lift their weapon to finish him off. That was the last thing he remembered doing before he crashed into the enemy and fell to the ground with them, hearing less than feeling, something crack sickeningly in the process.

A pained scream ripped from his throat as the angered brigand buried their sword in his abdomen, not sparing him a second glance as they ripped the weapon from his body and pushed themselves off of the ground.

Felix opened his eyes as soon as he didn’t feel the expected blow, only to find Sylvain crashing to the ground with one brigand, a sword protruding from his abdomen. Before he could even react, the brigand had drawn the sword from Sylvain and stood. An arrow rocketed across the battlefield with only a soft _whir_ to announce its arrival before it stuck itself directly in the bandit’s chest. In his daze, he saw Ashe a hundred yards away turn and fire another arrow in the opposite direction. 

Felix crawled to Sylvain, eyes wide and hands trembling as they hovered over his form. The sound he’d heard from Sylvain was like nothing he’d ever experienced, and it rang in his head like an echo. He’d never forget it.

“No, no, no, no,” he groaned, carefully gathering Sylvain into his lap so he could see the wound. Fuck, it was bad. He clamped a hand over it and his fearful gaze wandered the battlefield for anyone that could help. “Mercedes! Professor! Please!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, quickly growing panicked. This couldn’t be happening. Sylvain’s blood was dripping through the spaces between his fingers. Sylvain was lying broken in his arms. His best friend. 

Felix’s heart was gripped with the icy cold claws of dread as he stared down at Sylvain. “You idiot,” he hissed, “you’re going to die because of me. Because of me... Why did you do that?”

Sylvain winced at the movement, not able to cover the hiss of pain very well as he tried to laugh. "Isn't this supposed to be the part where you lie to me saying how I'm _not_ going to die?"

The weak chuckle turned into a pained cough as his hand flew to his mouth, blood seeping past his fingers. Sylvain let his head fall back as he grimaced, "Ahh, that's not good. Always figured if I ended up being the one to save you for once it'd be a lot less dramatic than this."

“Stop. Please— stop. It’s not fucking funny!” Felix tried to keep his jostling to a minimum, watching in horror as Sylvain spit up blood. “You can’t— you can’t do this! You can’t... _I’m _supposed to protect _you_. You’re gonna fucking break our promise.” Felix’s voice broke despite himself. He was going to lose his best friend and his only love, and there was nothing he could do. 

He steadied a hand over Sylvain’s wound and attempted the only healing spell he knew— extremely weak white magic. Byleth had taught him faith on a whim once; he supposed it was good for something.

Sylvain winced as he felt the magic prod at his open wound, "Sorry. For the joking part. I'd rather break my word like this than have the roles reversed though so I won't.. apologize for that."

Sylvain's words faltered a bit as he felt his grip on consciousness slip. He barely managed to pull himself back by digging his nails into his thigh, grounding himself with the pain, but it wasn't much.

“Sylvain...” 

It was then that it finally hit, hearing Sylvain’s words began to slur as he began to drift. Felix clutched him tighter, face crumpling as the tears began to fall. “You— you idiot,” he gritted out, attempting and failing to hold back a sob. His shoulders shook with it, his breaths coming fast and short as he cried. “Please don’t leave me,” he gasped. “Please... This— this isn’t fair...”

Sylvain let out a shaky breath as he leaned into Felix. "It's okay. You've got the others. I'm just sorry I could never.. tell you the truth."

It was getting harder for Sylvain to stay awake. Everything was starting to feel heavy, as if he were on the verge of falling asleep. He wanted to just close his eyes and rest.. just for a minute. But Felix was crying and he couldn't be selfish when Felix wasn't okay.

“Is— is that about our fight?” That sick feeling was back in full force, and Felix couldn’t help but think that their fight was so fucking stupid. Why were some of the last things Felix ever said to Sylvain insults hurled in jealousy and anger? “It doesn’t matter now.” Felix allowed his shaky fingers to comb through Sylvain’s hair, all but cradling him to his chest. “I don’t— I don’t care about the others. I just want you.”

It was now or never. Sylvain was dying in his arms— Felix hated that it took him until then to muster up the courage to tell the truth. “It’s not okay. It’s not... You’re— You’re my best friend.” And then, the sobs shook his whole frame as he bent over Sylvain’s form, closing his eyes. He couldn’t do it. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, both to himself and to Sylvain for being a fucking coward.

Sylvain was fading and he couldn't control it. He wanted to hang on. He wanted to wipe away Felix's tears. But his mind was going fuzzy and the corners of his vision were darkening. He always thought death would be scary, he didn't expect it to be so _sad_ instead.

Sylvain finally gave in to the heavy weight on his eyes as he let them close and stopped fighting the darkness that tugged at his mind.

"It's -kay, Fe... I'll... always... love you."

Felix only cried harder, hugging Sylvain to his chest as Sylvain began to grow limp in his arms. His eyes widened, however, as Sylvain said—

_He loved Felix._

Felix pulled back just enough to stare at Sylvain’s face in disbelief. He could scarcely believe it— if his heart weren’t broken, he’d laugh at the irony. 

“I love you too,” he said weakly. “You can’t— you can’t go, Sylvain, I love you. I never told you because I was too fucking scared but I always have. I always...”

The smallest of smiles spread on Sylvain's bloodstained mouth as his body went completely limp.

The sounds of the battle around them had died down considerably, the fighting coming to an end. Ashe had been covering them as much as possible, praying to the goddess Mercedes would appear soon.

It took longer than he wanted, but he was finally able to catch enough of a break to get closer to the pair and crouched down beside Felix, gasping at the amount of blood Sylvain lost as he registered Felix's broken sobs.

"Here.." Ashe's voice was timid as he fished out a concoction and wrapped Felix's hand around it, worried if he moved or spoke too suddenly his friend would break there and then. 

His voice faltered as he looked down at Sylvain's pale form. It didn't look like he was breathing and Ashe felt his heart break. "Is he...?"

Felix had mostly calmed down as Ashe stared down at the pair, only a few sobs escaping him as he stared blankly off across the battlefield. He tightened his grip around the bottle of concoction that was pressed into his hand. He looked like a ghost, utterly still, his hands and his clothes stained with Sylvain’s blood and his free arm still wrapped around his body. 

He spared a glance to Ashe, whose knitted brow and heartbroken expression made him immediately look the other way, biting down hard into his lip until he drew blood. He shook his head. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he said, voice raw. “I don’t— He can’t take this. I... He’s fucking dying because of _me_. I can’t...” He stared down at the concoction in his trembling hand, mind going blank in panic. How would he even get Sylvain to drink this? Some blessed part of his brain that was still conscious and logical hissed at him, _you can still save him, but not sitting around like a dumbass. _

So, he steeled himself, taking a breath before tipping the concoction into his own mouth and curling over Sylvain to press his lips to his. It wasn’t at all how he imagined his first kiss— distantly he thought how Sylvain would have laughed at him for that, and his heart ached.

Mercedes, who had hustled across the battlefield after taking care of one last brigand, placed a gentle hand on Felix’s shoulder as he delivered the last of the concoction. He startled, pulling away only to meet Mercedes soft, reassuring smile.

“He’s still okay,” she said softly. “You’re doing so well, Felix. I know it hurts.” 

Felix curled his lip and looked away, back down to Sylvain, and carded his hands through red locks.

\---

Everything was quiet as Sylvain finally felt himself come back into the world. He grimaced at the light that practically blinded him the second he tried to open his eyes and actually cursed under his breath when he tried to sit up, only to feel a sharp stabbing pain in his abdomen.

One look around and he realized he had somehow ended up in the infirmary, back in the monastery. _How_ he got here was still a little fuzzy though.

Felix startled as soon as he heard sheets stirring, and his head immediately whipped around to face Sylvain. Hours had passed and Sylvain had simply lay still on the infirmary bed, but now his eyes were wide open and so were Felix’s.

_“Holy shit,”_ he breathed, half utterly shocked and blessedly relieved.

Sylvain blinked as he looked over at Felix, a lazy smile spreading on his lips. "Well hello to you too."

He looked around the room and frowned, "How long have I been out?"

Felix eyed that smile with a strange mix of joy and frustration. He was grinning like normal, but he was grinning like _he didn’t just fucking bleed out in Felix’s arms after confessing his love. _

“A few hours. Thought you were a goner,” he muttered instead of everything else he wanted to say, eyes darting away he scowled.

Sylvain carefully pushed himself up into a proper sitting position and shrugged, "Can't get rid of me that easily."

He noticed the way Felix practically curled in on himself. For Sothis's sake he could feel how tense he was from where he was sitting. "You okay?"

Felix’s gaze flicked back to Sylvain. “What do you think?” he sneered, words sharpened to a point. “I thought you fucking died in my arms. It took me an hour to scrub your blood from my hands. You—...” his voice cracked and he snapped his mouth shut, scoffing and looking away, blinking as his eyes began to burn and blur. 

“Lay back down,” he scolded. “You’re gonna reopen your wound.”

Sylvain didn't listen to the command and reached out instead, worry etched in his features as he watched Felix struggle to keep composure.

"Hey, come here."

Felix jolted away from Sylvain as he reached out, shaking his head with wide eyes. “I don’t—“ he began unsteadily, unsure of what he was even protesting. “I can’t.”

Why was Sylvain worried about him? He was the one who just fucking bled out. He was the one who almost died for Felix because he wasn’t strong enough to defend himself or his friends. Felix turned his head away, chewing at his lip. He didn’t deserve Sylvain’s kindness.

A flash of hurt crossed Sylvain's face as Felix turned away from him. He sighed as he lowered his arm and carefully pushed himself to lay down like Felix had originally wanted. "Sorry."

Was he reading things wrong? The events leading up to him passing out were blurry but he thought that they had at least moved past the fight. It was clear Felix was shaken up by the whole_ Sylvain almost dying _thing but he at least thought the other wasn't upset with him anymore. Maybe he was wrong.

“No... _Fuck,_” Felix sighed, dragging a hand down his face. _“I’m _sorry. I don’t... Ugh. You just... you almost died for me. I’m not mad about it, but... no, I’m mad,” he amended, “but not at you. No... I’m still mad. You let yourself get stabbed for me.” Felix furrowed his brow, scowling disapprovingly. “I don’t want you to die for me. It’s never worth you dying. Nothing is.”

Sylvain stared at the ceiling wordlessly and processed this, eventually closing his eyes with a sigh. "I don't regret it. I mean, yeah, I could have gone without the stabbing and what feels like a broken rib? Not the greatest thing."

He opened his eyes to look at Felix seriously, "But I don't regret it."

Felix aimed a glare at Sylvain for the joke, but it softened as the other met his eyes. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to say it— maybe it was the earnest look in Sylvain’s warm brown eyes— but he did it: “Did you mean what you said to me?” he asked quietly, almost fearfully. “Back on the battlefield.”

"Wha-.." Confusion swept over Sylvain at Felix's question before the events leading up to him passing out hit him like a wyvern. 

_It's -kay, Fe... I'll... always... love you._

_Always. Love you._

"Oh fuck." He cursed under his breath as he felt his face heat up. Not to be a total wimp but Sylvain grabbed the covers and yanked them over his head so Felix couldn't see that he was literally redder than a tomato right now. Stupid blood loss. Stupid lack of a filter when he was on his deathbed. _Stupid stupid stupid!_

Felix’s expression morphed from reservation to amusement as he watched Sylvain bury himself in his sheets. “Hey,” he said firmly, placatingly. “Look at me.”

Sylvain probably didn’t remember (or wasn’t conscious for) what Felix said afterward, his he supposed he’d have to confess again without the threat of the death of his best friend looming over him.

That is, if Sylvain was telling the truth and it wasn’t just words spouted in his last breaths.

“It’s okay. Come on, Sylvain. Did you mean it or not?”

It took several moments and a shit ton of willpower for Sylvain to slowly but surely pull the sheets away from his still fairly red face. He wasn't able to look the other man in the eye and was still kicking half dead Sylvain for going off and blowing the one thing he told himself he needed to keep to himself no matter what.

He swallowed dryly and nodded, "Yeah.. I did."

Felix nodded, pursing his lips around the smile that threatened to curl them. Despite himself, color still bloomed on his cheeks, but he forced himself to meet Sylvain’s gaze. He had a lot of questions— so many questions, actually— like why Sylvain would sleep with so many people, date so many people, while never giving Felix a second glance. 

“Okay,” he said softly. “Good. Because...” he took a deep breath swallowing his pride and his fear— it left him at his most vulnerable. “Because I love you, too. And it’d be pretty fucking awkward if you didn’t mean it.”

"What?!" Sylvain bolted up to a sitting position, immediately regretting it as he hissed in pain. "Ah, fuck ow."

“Hey! Lay the fuck down,” Felix snapped, reaching out to ease the other down. “You’re gonna reopen it. “ he was grateful for the distraction, but still worried about Sylvain’s condition.

Sylvain winced as he let Felix help him back down, "Sorry, sorry. Just. Really? You do?"

Sylvain was a man of romance. Of picking up signs. He prided himself in being able to tell what others were thinking, how they saw him and not once had he ever thought for a second his feelings were reciprocated. Not since they were kids and feelings were actually easy.

Felix shrugged, pulling away from Sylvain and folding his hands in his lap before nodding. “For a while. Yeah.” He sent a glare at Sylvain for his pensive expression, frowning. 

“What, you don’t believe me? Why would I lie about that? I tried to tell you on the battlefield but you... you were... whatever. I said it now.”

"You wouldn't.. I'm just.." A small grin spread across his lips. "A while huh?"

The idea of Felix liking Sylvain was almost enough to make the pain in his abdomen completely be irrelevant as he propped his chin on his hand and asked seriously despite the smile that he couldn't wipe from his face. "Is that why you were so upset back then?"

Felix grumbled something unintelligible, eyes darting away before nodding. “I thought I didn’t have a chance with you because I was a guy, and because I don’t have boobs or an hourglass figure or whatever, and that was okay. It was out of my hands,” he began, refusing to meet Sylvain’s gaze to see his infuriating smile. 

“Then you kissed _Darien_ and that flew right out the fucking window. Darien was... very masculine. It made me wonder what was wrong with me that you liked guys like him and couldn’t spare me a second glance.” He snorted, shaking his head at himself. “I sound like a spoiled brat.”

Sylvain's eyes widened as Felix explained and by the time he was finished, he let out a dry laugh as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Seriously? And here I thought my reputation to flirt with anything in sight proceeded me."

"The whole reason I went out with girls more than guys was because every time I tried to be with a guy I couldn't get you out of my head. For fucks sake there was a time I deadass called the dude _Felix._ Needless to say, that went. Horribly." Sylvain chuckled.

Felix let out a huff of laughter, eyes wide. “You didn’t,” he said in disbelief, mouth agape in shock that was part smug satisfaction. “Huh. Guess we were both fucking stupid.” 

He smiled down at his lap for a moment before Sylvain’s words finally registered, and he cocked a brow. “_Every time?_ How long have you liked me, anyway?”

"Uhh, since like... we were ten." Sylvain said, biting his lip and looking the other way. Here he always imagined if something like this ever happened Felix would be the flustered one and yet here they were.

Felix’s eyes widened once more, brows shooting to his hairline. And then he began to laugh, softly at first until he was gripping the side of his chair and doubling over. They’d loved each other since they were kids, and it took one of them almost dying over a decade later to admit it? The irony was actually painful, but all Felix could do was laugh.

Once he’d calmed down, he swiped a thumb under his eyes and huffed out a heavy exhale, followed by a soft “holy shit.” He shook his head, sending Sylvain a smile more genuine than he thought he’d smiled since their childhood days. “Goddess, we’re so _dumb_. Me too. Me fucking too. Ten years old. Figured out I liked boys. One boy, actually. Just you.”

Sylvain snorted, "We really are idiots, huh?"

His chest felt warm as he committed the soft smile to memory. Careful not to jostle his wound too much, Sylvain moved to push himself up again. "Hey Felix, can you help me sit up again? There's something I wanna do."

Felix frowned as Sylvain began to sit up once more, but his curiosity got the better of him and he carefully slipped an arm around Sylvain’s back, helping him sit up and watching his face carefully for any sign of pain.

Sylvain's hand reached up to cup Felix's face, a soft smirk on his lips as he brushed his thumb over Felix's cheek as a warning before he leaned up and pressed his lips against Felix's. It was just a small kiss, but it was enough to send his heart soaring as he pulled back with a grin. "I love you."

Felix’s eyes had fluttered shut as they kissed for the real first time, butterflies fluttering in his belly, but they shot wide open when Sylvain spoke. His face immediately flushed red, and he was ducking his head though he didn’t want to separate from Sylvain’s touch just yet. Or ever, embarrassingly.

“You can’t just say that,” Felix grumbled, face radiating heat as his heart flip flopped in his chest.

Sylvain chuckled as he ran his fingers through Felix's hair, letting the man hide his face in the crook of his neck. "I've got like ten years of missed opportunities to make up for man, this is just the beginning."

“It’s... a lot to process,” Felix grumbled, then pulled back just enough to see Sylvain’s face. Slowly, carefully, he brought a hand up to cup the other’s jaw in his palm, simply staring before pulling his hand away and averting his gaze once more. “You have to heal first.”

"I will, I will." It was nice seeing this side of Felix. Sylvain looked forward to all the sides of Felix he had been holding himself back from discovering.

Not wanting the other to leave, Sylvain shifted carefully to make room for Felix. "Stay with me?"

Wordlessly, Felix began hauling himself onto the bed beside Sylvain, trying not to jostle the other man with his movements. All the while, he grumbled about how small the bed was, but he didn’t really mind. Once he’d settled, he was pressed flush against Sylvain, pink to the tips of his ears. “It’s cramped,” he complained.

Sylvain snorted as he carefully wrapped his arms around Felix, "That a problem?"

Felix shrugged, allowing himself to be pulled in. He carefully avoided touching anything remotely near Sylvain’s wound, instead, tucking his face back into the crook of his neck.

“No,” he mumbled, voice muffled by Sylvain’s shoulder. “You’re warm. Do you have a fever?” Felix peeked up from Sylvain’s shoulder and narrowed his eyes accusingly. Maybe Sylvain really_ was_ just a walking furnace. That didn’t bode well (or perhaps it was perfect) for Felix, who was perpetually cold-natured.

Sylvain pressed his forehead against Felix's, closing his eyes as he hummed contently. "Maybe, who knows... You feel good though."

All of the exhaustion from the past week or so plus the toll getting injured took on his body was finally catching up with Sylvain as he nuzzled into Felix. He could feel himself starting to drift off but in a very different way than the last time. This time he felt happy, he felt safe, and he knew Felix was safe too.

Felix wrapped an arm carefully around Sylvain, allowing their bodies to slot together comfortably on the bed. The other man was quickly drifting off in his arms, and this time Felix wasn’t shedding any tears. 

Instead, he pressed the softest of kisses to the closest bit of skin he could find, murmuring, “Get some rest, Sylvain.” 

And then, a bit quieter, “I love you.”


End file.
